


Who scared of loud noises? Not Wade Wilson.

by shittywriterhere



Category: Deadpool (2016), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:18:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittywriterhere/pseuds/shittywriterhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade has nightmares, Peter just wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who scared of loud noises? Not Wade Wilson.

**Author's Note:**

> One particular scene is based on [this](http://puu.sh/oTNS3/7278f207e7.png)

Okay so its not like Wade is terrified of loud noises, because quite frankly, that’s ridiculous. He’s a _mercenary_ for fucks sake, his job, _~~scratch that~~_ , his life is built around loud noises. Guns, screams, that whole package deal that comes with unaliving peeps.

 

So Wade is definitely not scared of loud noises.

But that time Peter coughed behind him as Wade was lurking on forums on his laptop, and he kind of screamed…let’s just say that Peter hasn’t let him forget about it.

 

And to say that the laptop incident was an isolated event would be a lie. Things like that happened way more often than Wade cared to admit, and even though Peter swore he didn’t do anything to make Wade have that reaction, he still laughed every time. Cause seriously, who gets scared of a knock on an open door, of a hello, or of a hand falling on his shoulder?

 

Then Peter stayed the night for the first time.

He didn’t expect a spotless apartment, he wasn’t surprised that Wade needed a gun near him to sleep, and he didn’t mind that Wade crashed pretty early, cause hey, trying to be good was taking its toll on Wade, and he was trying for Peter.

 

He just didn’t expect the screaming. The yells that seemed to start in Wade’s stomach, shuddered through his entire being, before being ripped out of his throat. He sounded like a wounded animal, hands clawing at his body, fighting something that _wasn’t there_. Now Peter was screaming too, _why the fuck is this happening what the fuck is happening_ , and Wade isn’t waking up, he’s just shaking. His body curled in on itself, almost like a child would. All he could hear now was whispers, “ _…stop dad, please stop…”_ Wade repeating it like a mantra, hands curled around his ears, his muscled body looking too much like a frightened child.

Peter stared at Wade’s scared face, he still wasn’t even awake, just shaking, and repeating his whisper like it would protect him. Protect him from his _father_. How could Peter not have seen it? Wade’s self-deprecating jokes about his father, _he used to throw shit everywhere, but it’s not like I was a perfect son! Queer as all hell and certainly no stranger to the detention room._ Peter had always asked about Wade’s father when he was brought up, but the dozens of questions he had were never answered.

A low whine brought him out of his thoughts, Wade’s hand reaching across the bed towards him, looking for Peter to hold. He still wasn’t awake, but at least he wasn’t in that attack anymore, so Peter reached for Wade’s hand and held it tightly, thumb softly gliding over the rough patches of skin, seemingly held together by scars. He slid down next to Wade, opening his arms to pull Wade into a hug, resting his chin on Wades head. He kissed the scars gently, smiling against the sensitive skin when he felt arms curling up against his chest. Peter heard the beginning of Wade’s snores, before he was dragged under as well.

 

• • • 

 

Wade wakes in an unfamiliar position, in a familiar apartment. He’s tucked under Petey’s chin, curled in like a child, and he remembers the dream. He remembers it like it’s a bruise that doesn’t fade, he remembers those hits that fell on his body, he remembers fucking _everything-_

**Baby boy looks even prettier in the morning**

_Bet he looks even prettier under all those clothes_

**Let spidey sleep! Look at him, he’s frowning! he clearly didn’t sleep well**

“He is frowning,” Wade whispered, “why would he be frowning?”

 

_Maybe you smell_

**Maybe he doesn’t like being in bed with you**

_Maybe-_

“That’s enough!”, he stared at Peters soft, unscarred face, brow slightly furrowed. Wade leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Peters forehead, smiling when the tension evaporated. He leaned back, pleased with himself and content with cuddling Peter ‘til he woke.

Then Peter sneezed.

It wasn’t one of those cute, baby sneezes either. It was a loud, dad like sneeze. So much so that Wade fell off the bed ungracefully, his flailing limbs caught on the cord of a lamp and bringing it down to the floor with him. Peter sat up so suddenly it looked like he’d been scared awake, which to be quite honest, he had.

“Wade!?” Peter half yelled into the room, peering over the bed at the silent figure on the floor, who’s mouth was still open in shock, “you okay?”

Wade laid there for another couple seconds, processing what happened, before bouncing up, “Jesus baby boy! You can sneeze!”

Peter giggled and grabbed Wade’s hand as he walked past, tugging him closer to kiss his lips softly, smiling into the kiss, blushing horribly when his stomach grumbled.

 

“Oh Petey are we gonna have to eat something before we both cave into cannibalism?” Wade smirked, pulling on Peters hands to help him stand, “Pancakes?”

Peter nodded and followed Wade through the open door. He stopped to look at the one picture Wade had, tucked behind some takeout boxes, like it was hidden away. Peter decided not to mention it, because Wade was whistling a tune – probably Golden Girls – and he just looked so happy compared to last night’s episode of _whatever the fuck that was._ Peter ran up behind Wade and jumped on his back, wrapping his legs around Wade’s waist and kissed his cheek, “Good morning.”

“Ah good morning baby boy!” Wade laughed, his arms naturally going to support Peters legs and carried him to the kitchen, pointing out the sights much like a train conductor would (with a fake voice to match of course).

 

He loosened his grip on Peter’s legs when they neared the counter, setting him down on the countertop, before twirling around and kissing Peters lips. His hands making their way up from his thighs, teasingly slow, to his hair, threading his fingers through the soft curls and pulling Peter in for a deeper kiss. He bit gently at Peter’s bottom lip, smirking into the kiss when he heard Peter’s breath catch in his throat, nudging his nose along Peter’s neck, starting to bite harder the further he went down. Wade pulled away just when Peter tried to hold him closer, foreheads resting against one another’s, both breathing heavy.

 

“Sorry sweetie, gotta make the pancakes!” Wade said, winking at Peter’s flustered face. He placed one final kiss on Peter’s head and turned to the fridge, Peter watching him curiously.

It was interesting to see the different sides of him, this incredibly domestic one, making pancakes after a night of just cuddling, compared to what he did on his merc jobs, but then seeing him incredibly weak, regressed into that childlike state of fear. The different sides of Wade, all real and all so _fucking dangerous._ And this just made Peter want to know more, hear more about this incredible being who shouldn’t be standing here, who probably should be in a mental facility, but he didn’t care.

Peter watched silently as Wade cracked the eggs into the bowl and stirred them in, kicking his legs, thinking about how to bring up the events of last night without upsetting him. He needed to find out more, just so he could _help_ during those episodes. He didn’t want Wade to suffer at the hands of someone that wasn’t even alive anymore, he wanted Wade to let him in.

 

“Are you feeling better after you crashed early?” Peter asked softly, watching as Wade’s figure froze up while he was trying to pour out the mixture.

“Of course! Nuthin like a good sleep with a very pretty hero to rest these bones,” he replied, trying to keep the topic light.

“Did you have some weird dreams? I certainly did, considering it was my first night with you…” Peter tried.

“Hmmm other than some incredibly sexy dreams about that body of yours crawling on your webs, nup!”

 

**Baby boy isn’t dumb, dumbass**

_He knows you’re lying; do you seriously think you can keep this from him?_

Wade shook his head roughly, growling, “I can do this leave me _alone_.”

 

Peter saw Wade’s movement and tilted his head, sliding off the countertop onto the floor, wrapping his arms around Wade’s waist. “You can tell me anything Wade, you _know_ that.”

Wade tensed up, like he wanted to shove Peter off, make a joke, and pretend like everything is okay. So when he turned the stove off, and turned in Peters arms, Peter was the one who froze.

 

“What’s up Petey? Did I frighten you?” Wade said, not completely joking.

Peter looked up at Wade and shook his head, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Wade’s nose. “No, of course you didn’t. I just expected a different reaction than this.” Wade looked at his feet, still encased in Peter arms. How could he, a 6-foot-2 mercenary still feel _small_ compared to Peter? How did this 5-foot-10 _hero_ , fall deep in love with his fucked up brain, boxes and all? Questions practically jumping in front of each other in his mind, begging to be asked first. Wade was uncharacteristically silent, for far too long before Peter asked him, “What did _he_ do to you?”

 Wade sighed, burying his head into the crook of Peter’s neck, “He was an asshole Petey, can we leave it at that?”

“No, Wade, please talk to me about this!”

He sighed again, resigned to the fact that Peter wasn’t going to stop asking about this, not unless he talked. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

Peter down at Wade’s scarred face, and pulled him tighter into his arms, “I want to know how to help, that attack you had last night, scared the _fuck_ out of me! I didn’t know what to do. You were in pain, you were fucking terrified of something that _wasn’t there_ and I couldn’t help! I want to be able to help you when you’re in that state, Wade.” Peter was almost yelling by the end of his speech, he couldn’t believe it himself when tears started to fall. “Please let me help you! He did something horrible to you and I would kill him if he wasn’t already dead, just let me fucking help!”

Wade stared at the tears falling from Peters eyes, rendered mute with fear.

**BABY BOY IS CRYING**

_WHAT DO WE DO DID WE DO THIS_

**SNAP INTO FUCKING ATTENTION WADE BABY BOY IS C R Y I N G**

Wade pulled himself out of Peter’s hold, grabbing his arms, “Sweetheart, it’s not that easy!”

“I don’t want to believe that! I can help you, I know I can!” Peter yelled back.

“Peter, please listen to me. Those attacks that I get sometimes get so bad that I wake up without my head on,” Wade held Peter steady against the counter. “You helped so much, that when I woke up, I had everything connected. You helped just by _being here_. You don’t need to know how to help me because you already can,” Peter’s head jerked up at that, staring into Wade’s eyes, wiping the tears from his own.

Wade moved his hand from Peter’s hip to his chin, “Do you want to know a secret about those attacks?” Peter nodded, tears only now stopping their fall. “Ever since you came into my life, they’ve become easier to handle. And the day you told me you loved me, they have only happened a couple times. _You_ have helped even before you knew about this, you have _always_ pushed away my father’s voice.”

Peter gazed into Wade’s eyes, seemingly searching them for a hint of a lie. Wade stared back, both hands coming to rest on Peter’s neck, moving his head so their foreheads rested on one another’s. “You’re telling the truth…” Peter mumbled.

“I do that quite a lot yet people are always surprised,” Wade smirked, not passing up the golden opportunity to quote one of his favourite movies.

Peter giggled and slapped his arm playfully, “Am I gonna have to call you Captain now?”

Wade wiggled his hairless eyebrows, “Only if you want to sweetums.”

Peter placed a soft kiss to Wade’s rough lips, smiling into it when he felt Wade start to talk against his lips, not even able to stay silent for a minute. “You know baby boy, we –uhm- still haven’t had our pancakes yet.”

Peter giggled again, shoving Wade towards the stove, “Then cook, Captain Wade!” He turned to the radio and switched it to music, grabbing Wade’s hips and pulling them together to dance.

“Ah yes, _captain_ , I like the sound of that,” Wade replied, wiggling his ass to the beat, “but, _hehe butt_ , I need to focus on the _very hot_ stove if I’m going to make the pancakes, dear Petey.”

"Pancakes, dance, and then cuddle?" 

Wade melts at Peter's puppy eyes and kisss his face gently, “Of course baby boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> DISGUSTINGLY SWEET ENDING CAUSE I SUCK AT ENDINGS!  
> My friend wanted me to write "and then they do the fucko" so vote for which one is better tbh cause either one makes me laugh when I look at it  
> Send me spideypool prompts on tumblr [here](http://www.shittywriterhere.tumblr.com/ask) or comment them below :)


End file.
